


reset, reload, repeat

by recryption



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Spoilers - No Mercy Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 00:26:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5026594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recryption/pseuds/recryption
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you had fought him so, so many times, and really, honestly, and truly, you were getting rather tired of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	reset, reload, repeat

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title: sans is gonna get dunked  
> on tumblr [here](http://the-eighth-colour.tumblr.com/post/131441151529/reset-reload-repeat)

Your steps echo down the hallway, clouds of dust rising into the air with each step, an unending smile carved into your face. The knife clutched in your hands is rendered ineffectual and dull with the layers and layers of white dust coating it. Sans is perched in front of the doorway as he always is, every time you enter the hallway, twin - what, demon? - skulls floating behind him. His right eye alternates between blue and gold, and you already feel frustration rising into your blood.

He rattles off his long speech about how he couldn’t afford not to care, about how you should be burning in hell, the same thing that he had said a countless number of times before, before your soul inevitably shatters under his onslaught and you reload and walk down the hallway once more. He fires off his bursts of light from the gaping maws of the skulls floating behind him, slams your soul into the ceiling and floor and the walls of the room until you’re left gasping on the floor, the same thing that he had done all those times before. You swing your knife, aiming for a killing blow, but he sidesteps and you’re bound back into place, unable to do anything, as you had taken your turn.

Sans has killed you so, so many times, and honestly, it was getting so tiring. Boring, even. You had experienced the thrill of an actual challenge the first few times you had fought him. He could actually beat you! He was different! He was a _challenge_.

That feeling had soon eroded into dust, being replaced by the bitterness and anger and, really, _boredom_ of having to fight him again and again and again. Really, how many more times would you have to load to beat this unbeatable boss? He was put here to guard the doorway, to avenge the death of his dear brother Papyrus, but it was so _boring_. Even killing the murderer of your brother was a feeling that got jaded eventually, right? You had to get tired of the feeling of shattered souls in your hands _eventually_.

Of course, that comes from you - somebody who killed hundreds of thousands of monsters, sometimes even reloading just to feel the satisfaction of their dust sifting between your fingers once more.

You’re interrupted in the middle of your thoughts by the lights grazing your shoulder, searing shallowly into your skin. You hiss. This was not fun. This was not satisfying. He was trying to tire you out, yes, and force you to reset, but you had gotten so close to the ending! Even when you had nothing else, you had determination.

Sans looks at you as you swipe forward with the dusty knife again, barely skimming his chest with the edge of your blade. You like to think that he knows you have determination. He probably does, of course. Out of everybody, Sans would know that you had determination.

The moment he starts talking about sparing you and being friends, you lunge forward with the knife. This same speech had been repeated _so many times_. You got it after the first fifty. If you did accept, he would betray you - this was learned the hard way, due to your simple curiosity the first few times you had fought. That childish curiosity had soon been replaced with apathy towards - well, pretty much everything he had said. The lines he spoke were getting pretty repetitive. You could recite them off of the top of your head.

He slams you into the boundaries of the hallway over and over, not even throwing up bones at you anymore, and you dimly recognize this as a change. He was just - what, using you as anger management? As a punching bag? As your anger roars up, he slows down.

He stops.

He says that he’s going to unleash his special attack.

You freeze in your steps, and it finally sinks in that you had made it, you had gotten so far, you just had to survive this and tire _him_ out and you could win. Apathy had dulled your senses, certainly. You’re kept on by the determination you feel - just keep going, take advantage of his fatigue, just wait for this attack, it would surely take a lot out of him.

You wait.

Nothing happens.

“It’s, well, nothing.”

You scream and send your soul slamming against the box that kept it contained whenever it wasn’t your turn. You couldn’t _fight_ without your soul being returned to your body. You- you- he was trying to bore you even more, to tire you out! That was his plan since the beginning, and since he hadn’t worked, he’s relying on boredom to force you to leave! _God_ , you were so blind!

He grins, but it’s obvious that he’s tired, his eyes drooping, but he’s forcing himself to flash his blue and gold eye every time you clink against the edges of the box, strengthening the border and tightening the chains that held you down when it wasn’t your fucking _turn_.

Sans - this skeleton, he even _falls asleep_. You rage in the flimsy human body you had taken over - god, he was so insolent, he was going to die by your hand and his dust would make up the soles of your damn shoes.

Your soul pulls at its bonds, fueled by rage, pushing itself towards you.

You grin and feel the crimson running through your veins once again.

You run forward and take a jab at his head, without your soul on your side, fueled entirely by hatred and acrimony towards this fucking skeleton. He dodges again, laughing, asking if you really thought he would just take that, and you were so _sick_ of him dodging, you were so jaded and tired and you wanted him to _die_. The rest of his words are blocked out by a strange buzzing in your ears and you run forward _(out of turn, out of turn, your mind chants those three words but your body grabs those chains and breaks them in sheer contempt of the situation_ ) and slash him diagonally through the torso.

He thuds to the ground, blood somehow seeping out of the wound.

“Ha.”

It’s one syllable, but it expresses so much more.

You don’t pick up on the rest of the words, the haze of victory clouding your mind and erasing all coherent thought. He sidles out of your sight, and your scarlet soul is finally allowed to return to your body.

You don’t turn around when yet another thud is heard - it’s undoubtedly him crashing to the ground, exhausted and defeated and finally, finally dead. The faint susurration of his body dissolving into dust is heard, and you grin, wide, with all of your teeth, the knife held loosely in your hands, the new scarlet contrasting with the otherwise bland white dust.

It was strange.

You weren’t deriving as much enjoyment from this as you had expected you would.

The realization rushes upon you like a wave - it was Sans, it was Sans once again, he had wronged you so many times, an uncountable number of times, shattering your soul with chiseled bones and slamming your glass body into the hallway walls. You had roiled with pure fury so many times, but he kept hurting you, fully knowing about your unique powers. He was determined, but you were so much more, and yet-

You were not happy. You realize that.

Your grin cracks in a couple places.

Yes, you had sinned, but he had sinned so much more, he had wronged you so many times in a futile attempt at doing what was “right” and taking revenge for his brother’s death, and, in the end, his wrongs far outweighed yours. You were only trying to defeat Asgore and delete this horrible, horrible world that you had all been contained in. It was a noble quest, started out of selfish intentions, but ultimately, it was _right_! Yes. The job had been coded into your mainframe - this was what you were meant to do - save the entire world by deleting it because it had descended into hell and deep into the flames and it had turned _wrong_.

Sans had stood in your way so many times. He had stopped you from achieving your true purpose out of childish spite, not seeing the bigger picture. He was wrong, he had stopped you wrongly, it was _his fault entirely_.

You reach deep into your soul, pulling at the strings of determination in them. You remembered a time before, before you had taken your first cycle of revenge against your wrongdoer. You want to teach him his mistakes, and now, now that you had finally beaten him for the first time, you knew that you _could_ teach him. Even if it took a countless number of fights, you knew that one day, one day sooner or later, he would learn and stop trying to stop you from-

* * *

Your steps echo down the hallway, clouds of dust rising into the air with each step, an unending smile carved into your face. The knife clutched in your hands is rendered ineffectual and dull with the layers and layers of white dust coating it. Sans is perched in front of the doorway as he always is, every time you enter the hallway, twin - what, demon? - skulls floating behind him. His right eye alternates between blue and gold, and you already feel satisfaction bubbling to the surface of your mind.

This time, you swear that you can see the slightest glint of fear in his eyes.


End file.
